Second Definition
by Canadino
Summary: Partner n - 1 a person who shares or is associated with another in some action or endeavor, 2 a husband or wife, spouse. SLASH


**Disclaimer: If Snatch were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: --

**Minimal fluff 09!**

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Second Definition

The car bumped down the dirt road, passing various broken debris such as slashed tires and broken washing machines, but the only sound coming from the vehicle was the slight wheeze of the engine as it bounced up and down on the uneven surface, its tires sloshing from the mud underneath. The driver clutched the steering wheel irritably, all the while fuming inwardly, _A fucking caravan! The fucking pikey wants a fucking caravan when we can't buy the damned thing ourselves!_ He stepped harder on the gas, as if taking it out on the gypsies' campsite path could switch the situation in his favor.

"Whoa, Turkish, you ought to slow down or we'll go through the windshield." Sitting next to the driver was a nervous looking idiot of a lackey named Tommy, clutching at the door as if it could prevent him from death. The gun in the holster on his belt bounced with the car, threatening to clatter onto the floor.

"Let the man drive," Mickey said cheerfully from the back, sprawled along the backseat. He barked with laughter as Turkish gave him a glare through the rearview mirror and Tommy physically turned around, twisting halfway in his seat to take a look at the optimistic nomad. Mickey was still grinning as he pulled his hat over his eyes and settled down for a nap on the bumpy ride.

As Tommy twisted back to face the front, Turkish sneered at him while keeping his eyes on the road. He'd decided not to risk his life as when they were driving to the campsite, when he was looking off the road to complain how fucked this place had been, they had nearly barreled over a shopping trolley that was rolling onto the road. "I _fucking_ love pikeys," he hissed under his breath. Hearing the dripping sarcasm, Tommy glanced over at him.

"It was your idea," he reminded Turkish quietly, who tore his eyes from the road in a lapse of judgment to glare at him. Jolting back to the road as they arrived back at the main road, Turkish grit his teeth.

"This wouldn't have happened," he said, keeping his voice low purposely, "if you hadn't gone and lost us Gorgeous, you little fuck." Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Turkish held back from completely exploding at Tommy, who was now sinking into his seat. He had too much to worry about already: Brick Top, their fuckedness, trying to understand what on God's fucking green earth Mickey was saying…he didn't need a moody Tommy to top it all.

"Was wondering," Mickey called from the back suddenly, yelling to be heard over the sound of the freeway. "What you two were."

"We're normal citizens of London, England. You know. God save the Queen." If normal included being involved in underground unlicensed boxing matches. Much more normal than a bunch of pikeys living out in god knows where.

"Noo. I mean yew and him. What are yeh?"

"_What?_" Turkish demanded, still uncomprehending. Tommy, on the other hand, sighed softly in his hand as he stared out the window. It was starting to rain. Horrible weather.

"We're partners," he explained, as Turkish muttered something about horrible English under his breath.

"Partners?" Mickey repeated, sounding incredulous. He started to sit up, the hat sliding down his face and falling onto his stomach. "Like yew up to secret bidness in night? Sorry lads, I dinnit know."

"He thinks we're queer," Tommy translated tiredly, as Turkish's foul expression worsened.

"Listen here, pikey," Turkish growled, turning his head from the road to glower at a dumbfounded Mickey. Tommy reached over and put a hand on the wheel calmly, as if endangering events such as this happened often. "We're _partners_. Strictly business. You're a bloody boxer. Stick to throwing punches."

"Awright, I hear yeh." Taking the hat from his chest, he stuck it on his face again, settling down for a nap again.

"I fucking _love_ pikeys," Turkish said again.

Tommy sighed.

--

Not having the money to stick Mickey in a motel for the night, Turkish halfheartedly offered him the couch in his living room, where the gypsy was currently making 'homelier' while jibber-jabbing in his strange tongue. Turkish grumbled as he made his way to his room, shrugging off his coat on a chair. Tommy followed him anxiously and closed the door behind them.

"Worried?" his partner ventured carefully, sliding his holster onto the desk.

"Fuck me, of course not," Turkish muttered. "What do I got to be worried about? Brick Top's not gonna fucking kill us and we've got a goddamn pikey in my living room. It's completely peachy!" Sitting on the bed with a reserved thump, Turkish groaned as he ran a hand across his head. He said nothing as Tommy shrugged off his own coat and made his way in front of Turkish, placing his hands on the older man's shoulders and massaging them gently.

"What the _fuck_ you doing?"

"Calming you down," Tommy smiled sweetly, almost looking like the teenager Turkish used to scheme with when they were younger. With a small yelp, Tommy was yanked down as Turkish pulled on his tie and drove their lips together in a breath stealing kiss. Running his tongue on Tommy's teeth, Turkish shifted so he could reach for the boy's belt buckle. Because that was basically what Tommy was; still a boy who acted purely on emotion and couldn't get out of trouble for his life. Tommy broke away so he could help get his pants down, sensing Turkish's impatience.

"You can't apologize properly, can you?" Tommy asked breathlessly, still out of breath from the kiss as he fumbled with the belt buckle. Sliding down his pants, the boxers went next, as Turkish pulled him onto his lap before he could unbutton his shirt.

"Don't want to stay long and alarm the pikey," he murmured, wrapping an arm around Tommy's naked waist. "And I'm not apologizing."

"Sure." Tommy smiled as Turkish held up two fingers and opened his mouth to take them in, licking sensuously as he felt the other man's erection poke at him through the fabric of his pants. When he was finished with them, he let the fingers go with a final lick, seeing the lust in Turkish's eyes as he leaned forward to give the man better access. Biting back a gasp, Tommy gripped Turkish's shoulder as a finger slipped in, followed by another.

"Tight," Turkish whispered harshly and Tommy almost laughed. Biting back a moan, he reached for Turkish's pants, easily sliding off the belt and easing them down to his knees, nearly losing balance as Turkish shifted to let the pants down. As Turkish's fingers found that _right_ spot, Tommy found his voice again, letting out a short squeak as the man brushed against it again, smirking into his shoulder.

"Boxers," Tommy gasped, pleasure starting to numb his mind. "Get them _off_."

Keeping one hand still on Tommy's ass, Turkish slid his boxers off with one hand, revealing his hardened member. He dug through his pant pocket to find a condom and tore the wrapping with his teeth, still administering to Tommy, who was trembling now. He let out a curse and Tommy frowned.

"Fucking lube's in the sitting room."

The image of Turkish stumbling into the sitting room pantsless and spewing curses all the while Mickey watched stupefied was almost comedic. "I'll take care of it," Tommy breathed, reaching for the condom and sliding it on. Gently sliding Turkish's fingers out, he hissed as the warmth left and got on his knees on the floor, kneeling in front of Turkish with an innocent look on his face.

"Get on with it," Turkish grumbled. Tommy obliged, never taking his eyes off the man as he teased him with a short lick at the tip. "_Fucking _tease." Taking the cock in his mouth slowly, Tommy swirled his tongue around, wondering for a split second if he could bring it up next time to get flavored condoms. He didn't like this latex taste and it was another funny thought, making him chuckle and send vibrations through Turkish's member, making the man groan.

"Ready?" Tommy asked, leaving the condom slick with spit. Turkish didn't reply but turned him around and eased him onto his lap. Tommy held his breath and…_ooh_. Trying to hold back another moan, he bit his lip, almost tasting blood. "Go on," Turkish whispered in his ear, "set up your rhythm."

Going slow at first, Tommy increased speed, knowing full well his hips were going to be murder in the morning. It always didn't seem worth it then, but now…oh, now…biting back another sound, his eyes shot open as Turkish reached in the front and grasped his throbbing member, attending to it.

"Turkish…" He couldn't have raised his voice even if he wanted to. The warmth and sensations were overwhelming and he couldn't see straight, not to mention he had momentarily forgotten both his and Turkish's names. "I'm going to…"

All at once, the door burst open without so much as a knock. "Serry, but I don't got enough pillows so…" Blinking at the sight in front of him, with Tommy riding Turkish's cock while the latter seemed to be giving him a handjob, Mickey was speechless for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob. "Serry for the interruption, then," he said after a moment, closing the door behind him.

Even if Tommy hadn't leapt up and scrambled for the sheets, Turkish would have shoved him off. Quickly pulled on some pants, he followed Mickey to the sitting room, where the bare knuckle boxer seemed to be pretending to sleep.

"What you saw," Turkish began, his face still heated from his recent activities, "is…"

"I git it," Mickey said assuringly. "You two're partners. Makes complete sense. It's business. Jus' didit say _what business_. I git it."

Turkish raised his hand to say something and realized there was really nothing he could say. "Say anything," he threatened finally, "and you won't got nothing to fucking _box_ with."

"I git it!" Mickey laughed

Turkish turned and stormed back into the room. No matter how he looked at it, this mess he was getting in was getting in more and more fucked by the second. _I fucking love this business,_ he thought ruefully, _I fucking love boxing, and I definitely fucking love pikeys._

End

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Notes: Would anyone have guessed this was my first actual slash? I deeply apologize for any wrong facts and the horribly recreated accents. I just watched the movie and felt like ruining the experience with a fanfic.

And slip into the realm of 100 fanfics in anonymity. Reviews would be nice.


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